


Launch Me, Baby

by vaeltaa



Category: PewDiePie (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging & YouTube RPF
Genre: Cybersex, Dirty Talk, Drunken Confessions, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Crack, Friends to Lovers, Gay Chicken, M/M, Phone Sex, Skype, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, YOLO
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-15 06:44:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1295320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaeltaa/pseuds/vaeltaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a gloomy, early night in Florida and a rainy late night in England when everything changes and shit goes down because of one stupid, drunken bet. It's just a game, Pewds said. It will be fun, he said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It's a gloomy, early night in Florida and a rainy late night in England.

After numerous failed attempts at loading a new map for L4D2 and staring at repeated _failed to connect to game server_ error messages, Pewdie declares the map an enemy of the Pewdiepie State and accuses it of disrespecting his authority. 

After a barrage of insults against his new chosen mortal enemy, all in varying degrees of colorful sexual depravity, Pewds lets out a defeated sigh. "This bullshit map is not being very nice to me. Goddammit, I was really excited for this, we haven't done a co-op in forever." 

"Yeah, I know. Me too!" Cry takes a sip of his drink and removes his glasses to rub his eyes.

"What do we do Cry?"

Cry puts his glasses back on and brings his Skype window back up, glancing at Pewdie's webcam feed, his disappointed face and messy tufts of hair in stark contrast to the shadowy background behind him.

"I say fuck it," Cry replies resolutely. "Just fuck it. Let's do something else."

"Like what?" Pewdie smiles into his camera, eyebrow raised curiously.

"Let's just chillax, just you and me, getting our drink on. Fuck the game, fuck recording anything, it's too late to find anything else anyway so let's just talk. Like real bros."

"Like real bros, huh?" Pewdie laughs and fixes the hair that's fallen into his eyes. "Okay, cool. Sounds good, Cry. We'll be real bros and have a real bro conversation."

There's a few seconds of silence as they both hazily try to imagine what exactly a real bro conversation would entail. "And we're off to a great start," Pewdie says and cracks up after a few more seconds pass, and Cry's infectious, bubbling laughter soon joins in.

"Okay, okay. So, Pewds," Cry clears his throat. "Whatcha drinking, my man?" 

"I don't even fucking know," Pewdie starts. "It's some pink cider that tastes like fruity rainbows and magic. Magic cider. There was a huge box of this stuff in the fridge and it's pretty, um..." 

Pewdie lets out a loud belching burp. "...fabulous."

"That does sound fabulous," Cry laughs heartily.

"I hope it's not the kind that makes your tongue go pink, I hate that shit," Pewds continues, while sticking his tongue out as far as it would go and attempting to look down to examine it.

"Isn't your tongue already pink, good sir? Because if it's not, you should probably see a doctor. I'm just saying," Cry offers helpfully before cracking up at the faces Pewdie is making.

"Oh! Speaking of tongues," Pewdie exclaims excitedly. "I have an idea."

"Oh dear."

"We can still play a game while we're talking! Oh hell yes, this is the best idea ever, genius Pewds, fucking genius," Pewdie continues.

"W-what game?" Cry asks suspiciously, a little unnerved by his friend's enthusiasm.

"Waaait for it." Pewdie inhales dramatically. "Gay. Chicken."

" _What_?!" Cry utters. "...No. What? No." 

" _Yess_ , Cry. Drunk gay chicken," Pewdie grins widely at the camera, pleased with himself for coming up with such a brilliant idea.

"That's... That's not even... How is that gonna work, there is an ocean between us. A really big ocean called the North Atlantic."

"Doesn't matter," Pewdie interjects, dismissing Cry's protest with a wave of his hand. "Okay, get this. Just hear me out Cry, it'll be awesome. It's _like_ gay chicken but more like a bet, you feel me? "

"Uhm, okay... Yeah, I feel you. Maybe," Cry replies slowly, as the initial burst of panic subsided within him. This could either go very well or horribly bad, he thinks and silently thanks all heavenly powers for him deciding to always keep his cam off. At least this way, Pewdie couldn't see the blush creeping up his cheeks.

"Instead of groping you in real life, we do it like this, on the call," Pewdie explains with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "One of us starts and tries to make the other laugh or pussy out out with the sexiest, perviest shit you got, like _full homo_. And if you laugh, you die. Or lose, whatever."

Cry fakes a pained, drawn out sigh. "I'm so not drunk enough for this, man," he says and eyes his nearly empty glass. "Hang on," he continues and disappears for a second to load up on booze from the kitchen. 

When he returns, Pewds is smiling at him through his webcam and drums his fingers lightly together, as Cry sits and puts his headphones back on and adjusts his mic slightly.

"Alright, I'm back. With liquid courage. Not that I really need it," Cry corrects himself. "I ain't no gay chicken."

"Oh we'll see about that, betcha you'll lose so hard," Pewdie taunts. "You ready to do this shit? Is yo body ready for this jelly?" he asks while emphasizing the sentence by rubbing his own nipples.

"Y-yes. My body is so ready for your jelly," Cry replies resolutely, before dropping his somewhat pleasantly dizzy head onto his keyboard with a loud thud, laughing quietly at what he's just agreed to. "Fuck me," he groans.

"Hey hey, we haven't started yet!" Pewdie protests loudly.

"Sorry, sorry," Cry snorts. "You are a terrible influence, Pewds," he finishes while gulping down another mouthful of courage.

Pewdie grins widely and tilts his head back, making his voice go lower and sounding infinitely sinister. 

"Don't worry about it, Cry."


	2. Chapter 2

"You know I'm going to win this Cry," Pewdie announces self-assuredly, eyebrows raised at his webcam. "Just letting you know beforehand, Cry. Just letting you know."

"Whatever you say, man."

"I've got the magic pink cider on my side, man."

"Okay, man."

"Okay."

They break out laughing simultaneously before Pewdie clears his throat. "Who-o-o is up first?" he half sing-songs and downs his fourth... Fifth bottle? He was beginning to lose count, but his body felt comfortably warm from head to toe.

"Well," Cry begins while laying down a battle plan in his head, fully aware he was going to be taking this game very, very seriously. Pewds should be more careful what he wished for. "Since you seem to be so confident in your victorious...ness, I'll let you go first. Gimme your best shot, buddy."

Pewdie closes his eyes and inhales dramatically, then opens them again to stare directly into his camera with a sultry, come hither look. "Hey girl," he whispers seductively into his mic, while slowly unbuttoning the first of three buttons on his shirt. "You come here often?"

Cry bites his lower lip, but remains quiet.

"I, um..." Pewdie continues while letting his shirt collars hang open and running one finger across the newly exposed skin on his chest, releasing a pornographic moan. "I haven't seen you around before. What's your name?"

Cry brings a hand to his face and leans away from his mic to stifle the noises threatening to be cause of him losing the first round. Goddammit, he thinks and takes another sip of his drink. 

"Oh, you're shy?" Pewdie asks, followed by a dramatic hair toss when his opponent fails to utter any noise. "I, _mmhm_.... like that in a man," he moans into Cry's ears.

Cry nearly chokes on his drink as Pewdie's voice and obscene moan is suddenly very loud and extremely close inside his ear drums. Combined with Pewdie's sudden change of wording from girl to man, it almost makes him crack. 

Still hearing no response to solidify his victory, Pewdie decides to up the game and grabs his mouse to quickly open a different window. Suddenly, Gunther's _Ding Dong Song_ blasts into their headphones and Pewdie begins to slowly make humping gestures into his chair in tune with the eurotrash dance music.

"What the _fuck_?!" Cry bursts out at what was he was hearing.

Pewds continues dancing and lifts his shirt up far enough for Cry to see his nipples.

"Hey! That's not fair," Cry exclaims loudly over the music, inwardly pinching himself to prevent himself from descending into a fit of laughter. "You have a face cam, that's an unfair advantage!"

"No one's making you look, _Cryyyy_ ," Pewdie taunts while rubbing his nipples as the song reaches it's ridiculous crescendo and that's when Cry can't fucking hold it in anymore.

Pewdie turns off the music to better enjoy the fruits of his labor and preemptive victory as Cry's laugh explodes into his headphones. Pewdie grins widely and performs a little bow.

"Ahh jesus," Cry says after regaining his breath. "That was - that was good. Even though you totally fucking cheated, you goddamn asshole."

"Did not," Pewdie protests.

"You cheated."

"I didn't make no rules for not using music, and the face cam thing is your fault for not having one. That's on you, bro."

Cry sighs loudly, defeated. "Fine, okay. Drink your pink magic booze, you must be thirsty after your fuckin' strip tease."

Pewdie laughs and opens another bottle. "This doesn't taste like anything anymore."

"That just means it's working, Pewds."

Pewdie nods in agreement. "It's definitely doing _something_."

"I really should've been recording that," Cry thinks out loud. "Imagine the fuckin' moneys I could make off that shit. _Oodles_. Yeah. I'd sell that shit on Ebay. I'd be fuckin' rich."

"Don't you dare, Cry. Don't you fucking dare."

"Ah I'm just fucking with you," Cry assures him and lets out a few tipsy giggles before he leans back in his chair. "Or... Am I?"

"Shut up, you're drunk," Pewds mumbles. "You drunk bastard."

"You know what? You're actually right about that this time. I am drunk. And so are you."

"Fuck yes we are," Pewdie agrees and toasts to his friend on the other side of the computer screen.

"Did you know, that... uhm," Cry begins, a faint slurring evident in his words, "your accent gets even cuter when you're drunk? Because it does."

"That's just the magic pink stuff talking, Cry. And it's your turn, so stop stalling, bitch."

"Oh. _Oh_ ," Cry says ominously, and smiles in the stark white glare from his screens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The Ding Dong Song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z13qnzUQwuI), FYI.


	3. Chapter 3

With Pewdie's little strip tease fresh in mind, Cry mentally sharpens his battle plan. He was still sober enough to know that it could potentially be the worst idea he'd ever had, and drunk enough not to give a fuck. 

"Sit back and close your eyes," Cry begins and watches as Pewdie shifts in his seat and leans back, closing his eyes with a pleased, wry smile on his face.

"Are you comfortable?"

"Yes," Pewds answers with a nod.

"Good. Now, keep those eyes closed. I am going to blow...," Cry continues, adjusting his mic and bringing it up close to his mouth, "your mind."

Pewdie jumps slightly at how deep and intimate Cry's voice had become all of a sudden, but he doesn't say anything, confident Cry could never top his own, fabulous performance. 

"I like watching you like this," Cry says, voice low and raspy. "Having you... all to myself. It's pretty hot. You're pretty hot."

Pewdie's lips twitch upward slightly, ready to chime in in agreement but he controls himself quickly.

Cry takes a deep breath close into his mic, while keeping his eyes fixed on Pewdie to catch a reaction. At this point, Cry wasn't sure if he wanted to win their little game, or win something else entirely. He wasn't about to admit that his current state of semi-arousal was caused by Pewdie's fake moaning earlier - rather, his comfortably numb brain decides to blame it on the alcohol fucking with his bodily functions. Because that made total sense. Okay, true, it's also been a while, he thinks to himself while taking another swig and going for gold. "You know what? I'm going to make you my bitch."

Pewdie momentarily scrunches up his nose, followed by another twitch of his lips but he keeps quiet without too much effort. 

Fucking adorable, Cry thinks and grins. "Yeah, you like that? I would fucking _own you_. I'd make you _scream_. Picture it, right now. Do it."

Pewdie furrows his brows and makes a face as if he'd just bitten into a very sour lemon, going slightly red from holding back his laughter, or his embarrassment. Or something else? Cry couldn't tell. 

"Are you thinking about it? Shit, I can just fucking imagine the noises you'd make for me, Pewds. With my voice in your ear and my lips on your neck... Yeah, I'd go slow. _Rrrreal_ slow."

Pewdie makes a sound not unlike a quiet, muffled squeal before he can stop himself. 

"That's it," Cry nearly growls into his mic. "Yeah, give in to it man, I know you want to. This is getting you all hot 'n bothered, isn't it? Just say the word, Pewds. Come on. It's gonna happen, sooner or later."

Pewdie clamps both hands over his mouth and shakes his head, stubbornly refusing to lose.

"No? Well, shit," Cry says matter-of-factly. "I guess... I'm just gonna have to fucking suck your dick," he continues, followed by an obscenely drawn-out, seductive sigh.

" _F-f-fuuuuuuuck_ ," Pewdie groans between clenched teeth and fingers, still not laughing or admitting defeat by telling Cry to shut up. 

"I'd give you the greatest fucking blowjob ever. On my knees in front of that chair you're sitting on right now. And you're already hard for me, aren't you? Fuck yeah, you are. I can tell 'cause I'm watching you. Open your eyes, Pewds."

Pewdie's face is flushed as his breathing gets noticeably louder, shifting around awkwardly in his seat. Cry grins in silence as he watches Pewdie open his eyes and proceed to blink rapidly a few times before looking straight at his cam - straight at Cry. Pewdie's lips are slightly parted and his pupils blown as he gives Cry a look with a disbelieving, somewhat stunned and very much amused expression.

"Jesus, Cry..." he exclaims, "I'm actually getting a boner from this, what the fuck!?"

"Told you I'd make you my bitch. Now shut up and do something about it," Cry downright commands, rough in that slurred, gravelly voice that somehow went straight to Pewdie's dick. "Fuckin' jerk it, right now."

Pewdie looks momentarily indecisive before glancing down to the bulge in his pants, wide eyed and dumbfounded. "God-fucking- _damn it_ ," he groans and takes a big gulp of his pink cider. 

Cry continues to watch, pleased as Pewdie fumbles with his zipper before falling back into his chair and closing his eyes again, his right hand moving slowly up and down, in and out of Cry's point of view. "Hnng," he moans quietly and Cry has to swallow hard before he speaks again.

"Yeahh. Good boy, Pewds," he says with his eyes transfixed on the video call window. "Now imagine that's my hand on your dick right now. And you're getting so close. You're so fucking close."

" _Fuck_ , Cry... This is like, better than porn with big tits and shit, why haven't we done this before?"

"Shhh," Cry whispers. "Come for me Pewds, right fucking now. I'm watching you. Are you listening? I need you to come for me."

"Ahh, shit shit, I'm gonna - ahh... _fan_ ," Pewds rambles incoherently as his hand speeds up before his body goes still and his mouth drops halfway open, and he comes with a low, breathy groan that is like music to Cry's ears.

Cry is harder than he can remember being for a long-ass time, but paces himself by finishing off the last of his drink. "Good job," he grins smugly and watches as Pewdie's head drops back on his chair, his eyes closed and panting. "You should probably go clean yourself up a bit, dude. Like... I don't know, just a suggestion. Kleenex, maybe?"

His clear, playful laughter seems to wake Pewdie out of his post-orgasm bliss. "Jesus fuck, Cry. That was pretty gay," he announces sloppily with a dazed look in his eyes before correcting himself. "I mean, um, fabulous."

"Yes," Cry snickers. "Yes it was."

Pewdie moves to go to his bathroom to clean up, swaying generously immediately after standing up, earning another bout of rolling laughter from his headphones. Pewdie sticks up his middle finger in his webcam's general direction before staggering slowly out of view.

Cry begins to feel a dire need to take care of himself and his own needs somehow, but decides spare himself any further regrets in the morning by ending the call first.

"You know, I had some nice porn lined up for tonight but I guess I don't even need that now," Pewds slurs drunkenly as he comes back, dropping himself back into the chair in front of his computer with a swoosh. "Goddamn you're good, Cry."

"Thanks man. Pleasure's all mine. Or really, all yours. Wait, what? I don't know what the fuck I'm saying anymore," Cry blurts out, officially feeling the full effects of of the alcohol in his system, combined with the late hour and the irritatingly persistent blood flow to his crotch.

"You should consider getting a part-time job as one of those sex phone call people," Pewdie says, nodding slowly in agreement with himself. "Yeah. So pro, man. Charge a hundred bucks or some shit a minute. I would call you so hard."

Cry chuckles, feeling weirdly proud. "Nah dude, that was just for you," he says and almost adds _because I fuckin' love you_ but he catches himself just in time.

"So how long did we go? Who won?" Pewdie asks, then laughs as he realizes they'd completely spaced on their little bet, their fabulous Game of Gay Chickens.

"I don't fuckin' know man, I'm drunk off my ass," Cry replies honestly with a short giggle.

"Me too, holy shit. My eyeballs are doing a dance and my screen is all blurry and wow, not cool," Pewdie mumbles and kicks away an empty bottle at his feet. "Magic fucking pink cider."

"It is truly magical," Cry replies and stretches in his seat. "Hey, whoa..."

"What?"

"Oh no. I've been recording this whole time," Cry says sheepishly. "I must have forgot to shut it down."

" _WHAT_?!" Pewdie half-shrieks, nearly scared sober.

Pewdie's brief moment of sheer panic is relieved by a sudden bout of one of Cry's more sinister laughing fits. "I'm fuckin' with you, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"I hate you so fucking much," Pewds swears after a moment, with a deadpan glare into his cam. 

Cry smiles at his screen, sighing happily. "I know you do, Pewds. I know you do." 

 

~~


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things move forward, feelings are had. These two will eventually not be separated by an ocean, I swear. Trying very hard to get them in the same room here, bear with me. As always, I own nothing & thanks for reading!

Cry wakes up the following afternoon tangled in damp bed sheets with a mild hangover that was easily chased away by a long shower, a few aspirin and a proper breakfast. He makes it to his second bite of bacon when the events of last night fully dawn on him. He rubs his temples with an exasperated sigh and swears under his breath, unsure if he was cursing himself, Pewds or the alcohol. 

Probably all three.

He grabs a big mug of iced tea from the fridge to cool down in the thick mid day Florida heat before sitting down at his computer to work. He thinks about editing together some older GTA footage he recorded with Sp00n to make up for the lack of a video today, on account of the fact that no actual recording with Pewdie went down last night. Just... other things. He's partly relieved to see Pewdie wasn't online on Skype, delaying the inevitable conversation for the moment. 

He hopes nothing's changed between them, yet a big part of him really, _really_ wanted them to. He didn't want to forget last night, he _liked_ last night, but he was afraid he might have to. Was it just a one-time thing? Because they were shitfaced and bored? Fuck, he thinks, stopping that train of thought in its tracks. Don't go there, man.

He busies himself with tweeting a quick apology to his followers, citing "technical difficulties" - which wasn't a lie, just a half-truth - when he notices a barrage of @replies asking him what he and Pewdie did last night. Demanding to know what happened in caps lock and persistent little smiley faces. 

Cry freezes momentarily, his eyes going wide. Oh no. _He did not_ , he thinks to himself, bringing his timeline into view and sure enough - there it was.

> **PewDiePie** @pewdiepie 4h  
>  @CryWasTaken Thanks for last night honey :P #breakfastinbed

"Jesus fuckin' christ, Pewds," Cry mumbles to himself and blinks rapidly at the tweet and its thousands of favorites and retweets. He briefly imagines - not for the first time since they'd been friends - shaking some sense into that goddamn crazy Swede, but the feeling is quickly replaced by his own disbelieving laughter. _I am gonna kill him_ , he thinks while typing his reply. For real this time.

> **Cry** @CryWasTaken 1m  
>  @pewdiepie You're welcome, darlin'. Waffles and blueberry pie? #iamgoingtomurderyou #poodswillbethepie

Cry publishes the tweet and lets the iced tea soothe his suddenly very dry throat before going back to work editing. He can feel his face has gone all hot and it definitely wasn't the heat this time, he thinks, while rubbing his neck absentmindedly.

As soon as Pewds got online, he was going to get a real fucking talking to.

 

**

 

"There you are," Cry says menacingly into his mic as Pewdie finally gets on the call a couple of hours later. "I was starting to think you were dodging me on purpose, you ass."

"WHY AM I THE PIE?" Pewdie interrupts. "Where are my waffles, bitch?! Huh?" His voice sounding like his usual, cheerful self. 

"No waffles for you today, mister," Cry scolds him. "Do you even know what you have done? WHY WOULD YOU TWEET THAT!"

"I'm sorry! I just wanted to say thanks, man, jeez. So touchy, Cry," Pewds taunts with a grin, seemingly not feeling one ounce of regret. That ass.

"I have got SO. MANY. people asking me about it, you son of a bitch," Cry laughs, quickly giving up on being angry at Pewds. 

He never could be mad at him for very long.

"Well I ain't ashamed, man, life's too short," Pewdie declares stubbornly while sending Cry a link to some new Gmod maps for their second attempt at recording in two days. "Let them be curious, I don't give a shit, that's how I roll, yo."

Cry laughs and sighs, starting the downloads while feeling the mild anxiety from earlier dissipating slowly from his body. Pewdie had a way of doing that to him, to make him feel better just by hearing his voice. It was so simple. Cry decides he's got nothing to lose and drops the question that had been bugging him since he woke up that day. "Sooo, you don't regret that uhm... thing last night? We're cool?"

"Fuck no, I don't regret that shit, that was like the best fap I've had in forever," Pewds says ever so bluntly. "No worries. We're so cool, Cry. We are coolest. Just because a guy watches another guy fap doesn't mean it's gotta be a big deal, bro. I'm cool, you're cool, we cool."

"Okay, yeah, neat! Cool," Cry laughs in relief, then goes silent for a second. "Uhm, for the record, I don't regret it either," he says and takes a deep breath, taking a metaphorical plunge into the deep end. "And, uhm. Hey, Pewds. It _could_ totally be a big deal. Like... Y'know, if you wanted it to be. I'm all for that. I mean, I'd be okay with that."

Cry curses himself for fumbling with his words slightly, not really even sure what he was trying to say, but hopeful Pewdie would get it. He always did.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Pewdie asks conspiratorially, surprised at what his long-time friend was hinting at but nowhere near offended at the suggestion, if only a little flustered. Quite the opposite, Pewdie realizes as he actually hears Cry say it. He wasn't one to question his feelings or to not follow them where ever they might lead.

"I'm... pretty sure I'm saying what you think I'm saying. Yes." Cry says and smiles tentatively at the tone of Pewdie's voice while fidgeting with his hands, not quite sure where to put them until he shoves them into his pockets.

" _Shit_ , Cry," Pewdie laughs nervously, breaking their banter and bravely cutting straight to the point. "Like seriously, I never thought you'd ask, but after last night..."

"I never thought _you_ would ask, man!" Cry interrupts with a relieved laugh, removing a hand from his pocket to thumb at his lower lip. A nervous gesture he never quite grew out of. Pewdie's words were like music to his ears, finally confirming to him that he wasn't crazy feeling like they had _something_. 

A something that could be more. And he felt elated and a little scared at the same time. He'd almost forgotten what this felt like. 

"So we've both been dumbasses," Pewdie states with a laugh and sweeps a lock of hair out of his eyes. "Okay, Cry."

"Okay, Pewds," Cry replies.

"We're a hundred percent agreed and we're cool and this... _thing_ is definitely a big deal," Pewds confirms. "Our thing. We have a thing. Yeah?"

"Yes, we have a thing," Cry agrees, lightheaded from the rush of endorphins from Pewdie's mutual feelings and the adrenaline it took to even go there in the first place, feeling strangely younger than his twenty four years. "Oh, and how about you _don't_ post about this to your millions of followers this time, okay?"

"Of course, of course. No promises though. You know me, Cry."

"Jesus," Cry sighs happily. "Yeah. Well, I guess that's what I get."

"That is what you get, bro. I am the whole package. Don't cook if you can't take the heat - I mean, what? Get out of the kitchen if you can't - uhm, fuck."

Cry snorts and decides to save Pewdie from getting stuck in an endless loop of tricky English proverbs. "Hey man, this shit just finished downloading. Wanna do some spooky maps?"

"Fuck yes, let's do some spooky maps."

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive me, I don't normally do RPS. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are appreciated.


End file.
